


By the Gardens

by margaerytvrell



Series: The Finality, The Onset and Everything in Between [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, characters tba every chapter update, so there will be moreee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-18 04:23:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9367766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/margaerytvrell/pseuds/margaerytvrell
Summary: How they fell in love.





	1. Master Manipulator

"I should have had her punished for her father's crimes!"

Margaery saw it in his eyes... The rage, the hatred, the terror. All the things that she didn't want in a man... in a lover.

Joffrey seemed no different from the mad king himself, she thought, based on what she could recall from her history lessons back in Highgarden.

Same idiocy minus the silver hair.

Margaery looked into his eyes, however, not seeing the late Aerys Targaryen. She saw a young boy. A complex and uncontrollable, yet predictable young boy. A product of his name and status, his mother's wrath and his father's(?) success during the rebellion. He cannot be changed... only tolerated. And Margaery knew how to play the game she was trained to be a part of ever since she was introduced to it.

"As it is your right... You are the king." Margaery indulges him in his esteem with a smile that never failed to deliver its sincerity (that's what she wanted Joffrey to think, at least).

"Yes... I am." The young king spoke with a calm and dignified tone with eyes glued to his intended as he fixes his posture even as he sat. His left hand gripped tighter on the body of his newly made crossbow while his other hand fidgeted on the surface of the bolts that held the weapon together.

 _An absolute lunatic_ , the soon to be queen couldn't help but think behind that radiant smile.

"And as the future queen, you shouldn't be around such a degenerate. I don't see how you could stand being around that traitor's daughter—"

"—though, you were once a traitor's wife. Perhaps you understand her sentiments." He finally ends, his voice expressing a hint of disgust before letting his eyes revert back to his contraption.

It was a pleasant afternoon in King's Landing; with the sun positioned behind the clouds yet its rays still passing through the vapor. The cool breeze became more noticeable than it was a few months back. Summer has passed and it was starting to get chilly. _Winter is coming_ —one great house had always said. And it was an afternoon that reminded Margaery of _Sansa Stark._

She had only seen the young northerner twice. First was in the throne room, when she had confessed her _love_ for Joffrey. Second was when she invited Lady Sansa to get acquainted with her grandmother, Lady Olenna of House Tyrell. However, the whole _getting acquainted_ catch was just an excuse to be close to the younger girl, to be able to converse with her, to get to know her. And ever since then, Sansa was barely out of her thoughts—from the moment she woke up until the moment she closed her eyes and repeat. It had been exactly a week since their last encounter; a week filled with Sansa's face plastered on her mind and a ton of daydreaming. Until finally, Margaery just had enough of it. She needed to see her.

But Joffrey had other plans. Maybe in this area, Margaery failed to see that the king was starting to get a little too comfortable with her company. He was supposed to spend his day in the throne room, listening to complaints and requests from the common people. He usually had his mother, Queen Cersei, with him but this time he wanted his betrothed by his side. As he thought it was just proper for his future queen to be next to him rather than his own mother.

Margaery did not want to attend to the king's matters for obvious reasons. She was not looking forward to witnessing his never ending cruelty. Sansa had mentioned before that Joffrey once asked a man which he favored more, his hands or his tongue; just because of a silly song that the commoner sang in the throne room. Eventually his tongue gut cut off by Ser Ilyn Payne just moments later. Even though her distaste for gore was enough to keep her away, she would usually never say no to the king, but rather, obey with enthusiasm. She is his future queen, after all and Margaery needed to play the game. But today just wasn't the day for playing the game. She had other matters to attend to... matters of the heart.

So when Margaery mentioned that she was planning on spending the day with the young Stark, his grace was displeased, disgusted. She never ought to hide her plans for the day from him. She didn't want to appear as if she was sneaking off. She just enjoyed the company of other ladies, chatting, eating... she'd like Joffrey to think. Her other intentions, however, would be best kept to herself.

Margaery's pride remained untouched, even with Joffrey's harsh words; nothing less could be expected from him, after all. She did have preconceived notions prior to the arrangement of what kind of a king he was... A terrible one—who couldn't hold his own tongue.

"I understand your confusion, Your Grace—as I feel that my repugnance for them runs just as deep as yours..."

A lie tucked underneath concerned eyes.

"However, her name still holds the north. And as long as you have her, you have a chance in holding the north for yourself."

"I could have other men rule over the north... Those who are actually devoted to the crown." He points out, showing a sense of authority as the king.

"And that is a wise idea, your Grace..." She starts off once again with a humble tone.

"But wouldn't it be wiser to keep our friends close... and our enemies closer?"

Joffrey holds his gaze at her, with gritted teeth and eyes slightly squinted as he scanned her from head to toe. It was evident that there was a hint of suspicion as to why his intended appeared to be more indulged in politics than he had once thought. Margaery quickly picks up the reaction on his features, carefully collecting the next words that would leave her lips.

"Forgive me, Your Grace..." Margaery continues with her head slightly bowed.

"I just dont see the point why you should be buried deep in this kind of nonsense." She proceeds to make small steps towards him so that Joffrey could feel their newfound proximity.

"Sansa Stark is not even worth mentioning, I understand that..."

She goes to sit by his side, her forearms resting delicately on her lap and her head still slightly bowed.

"And I hope to make no offense, but you have other important matters to attend to..."

"I just thought I could be of help somehow... other than providing you with heirs." By this time Margaery had established eye contact with the young king, noticing how his expression softened for a moment.

"A lady will always trust a warm smile and an inviting heart."

"If we show Sansa Stark and her people our love they will return it a thousandfold..."

"... And when that trust is gathered, you could, perhaps, seize the north for yourself, through allegiances, if that is what you wish—destroy the Starks and have their name burn into ashes..."

Joffrey's eyes drifted back to the crossbow, as if he was considering the plan that was given to him.

"... I am expected to please my king... in more ways than one, I hope. Rather than letting you handle such petty drama, I would want to serve you... in this way I know how... Of course, if your grace would permit me—"

"Keep her close."

Margaery beams with a smile at his interruption.

"And once you have her trust, I will kill her and her traitor brother." Joffrey further points out, his wretched tone returning.

Margaery felt a lump stuck in her throat as he spoke of his threat.

"You do what needs to be done—to deliver justice. A just king you are, Your Grace..."

Margaery's eyes move down to the crossbow that rested on Joffrey's lap and a hand slowly creeps on top of the weapon, on its way to meet the king's hand.

"... The seven kingdoms couldn't be in safer hands."

She gently held Joffrey's hand; the hand that caused the further destruction of the seven kingdoms in the first place.

He then looks at her, no longer with suspicion, but with soft eyes. A way that he had never looked at anyone before. Could it be affection? Perhaps. Or maybe the first signs of it. He had not realized that he was slowly being lured into Lady Margaery's trap.

She smiles at him when she notices his soft expression and Margaery felt satisfied with her work.

"If that is all, your Grace, I best be on my way. Wouldn't want to waste any more of your precious time." Margaery detaches her hand from the king's before dusting off her dress. And at that moment when her hand left Joffrey's, it's as if he had just awoken from some sort of hypnosis.

With a nod of the young king's head, Margaery gives her final courtsey before exiting Joffrey's bed chambers.

Outside, there was the absence of Joffrey's kingsguard that Margaery couldn't care less about. Loras stood by the door instead, waiting for his sister.

"I heard every word." He greets the younger sibling after Margaery stepped out of Joffrey's chambers.

"And?"

"You barely escaped with your life." He says with a smirk before offering his arm for Margaery to cling onto as they proceeded through the halls.

"It appeared as if he was ready to aim his crossbow at me. Never thought I'd be the first thing he'd kill with his own hands." Margaery responded with a smile playing on her lips, her arm clinging onto Loras'.

"I doubt it." Loras shifts his gaze down to the younger female.

"Based on your lovely conversation with his grace, you two have that equal amount of bloodlust."

Margaery chuckles softly at his words before she looks up at him.

"If that's what he desires in a lady, then surely." The young Tyrell reverted her eyes back on their path.

"You seem eager to have Sansa Stark's head on a spike then."

"Just as much as I'd want to be married to the king."

The siblings look at each other, small smiles forming just moments before Margaery bursted with soft giggles as Loras did with his chuckles.

"You play him like a fiddle, sister." He commended.

"I try... I don't mean to have my head chopped off this early in our betrothal."

"I don't quite understand how you do it, still. Even Cersei herself cannot control the boy the way you do." He says with amusement for the younger sibling.

"Unfortunately, only Tyrell women get to possess such a trait—fortunate for me and less fortunate for her and everyone else—" She looks up at her brother just before ending her statment.

"—including you, Loras. You may be a Tyrell but not a woman." she finally concludes with a smirk of her own

"Well, we cannot all have the future queen's charisma, can we?"

And behind those smiles there was silence. And in that silence there was only one name that resounded in Margaery's mind.

 _Sansa_...

"Where is she?" she asked, almost beaming.

Loras couldn't help but chuckle at his sister's question. He knew that she was absolutely captivated by the young Stark. Luckily for Margaery, she had a brother she could share all these feelings with, as it was something she felt restricting to just keep to herself. Loras had never seen his sister as ecstatic as she was since their arrival at King's Landing. Something had definitely changed inside of her, something that Loras hoped would stay with her for quite some time.

"My little sister is smitten, I can see." the older brother teases as he nudges the younger one's shoulder. And at that moment he could very much see the light blush that grew visible on Margaery's cheeks and the grin she was desperately trying to hide.

"She's outside by the garden... praying, if I'm not mistaken."

"Praying?"

"Mhmm."

"Sweet girl..."

Loras smirks at the way his sister spoke—absentmindedly, lovingly. And he could already imagine Margaery drifting off to another daydream session of hers.

"Shall I escort you to her?"

"Please do..."


	2. A Rose Pin of Gold

"What is that?"

"What is what?"

Sansa let her gaze linger on the image of her handmaiden that reflected on the mirror, and Shae stared at her just the same. A moment of silence fell upon them, both girls looking at each other through the mirror as Shae continued fixing the younger girl's hair.

"That thing in your hand." Shae responds soon enough as she tugged on Sansa's hair, her eyes reverting back to her head as she attempts to mimic the braids she saw on other southerner ladies.

And even before Sansa could complain about the painful tug of her hair, her eyes shift down on the hair pin that her fingers have been fumbling over the entire morning.

It was a pin made entirely out of gold and in the shape of a rose; one that resembled the sigil of House Tyrell. Sansa tried her best to hide the smile that crept on her lips.

"It's Lady Margaery's..." The younger female finally answers, her eyes still glued on the hair piece.

"You took it from her?" Shae asks once again, her foreign accent as evident as ever.

"Of course I didn't—" Sansa replies almost immediately in vexation.

Shae always had a way of annoying Sansa every now and then with her utmost ridiculous questions, most especially when they met for the first time. After all, how could a handmaiden act as strangely as Shae always did? Sansa always contemplated on the thought. But she couldn't deny that she was the only one who ever felt closest to family ever since her father's execution. Though Sansa wasn't an expert on tolerating personalities different from hers, she did with Shae's. Her handmaiden did take the responsibility on caring for her when she was alone in the lion's den and Sansa continued to be thankful for that in spite of their petty misunderstandings.

"She dropped it..." The younger girl finally adds, the softness in her tone emerging.

"When do you plan on returning it?"

Now this was a question that Sansa wasn't sure what to answer. She had last seen Margaery exactly a week ago. And just as Lady Margaery and Lady Olenna walked away from the gardens of the Red Keep, leaving Sansa behind, she notices the golden pin slipping through the strands of Margaery's hair. Sansa was too reserved to call the older female's attention just as the pin dropped on the stone floors. Instead, Sansa walks up to the hair piece, picked it up and let her fingers run through the metal just as Margaery continued to walk away... And Sansa kept it with her ever since.

Truth be told, she had taken the time to calculate on how to return it to Margaery. Was she supposed to go to her chambers and return it to her formally? Or just casually give it back if given the opportunity they would unexpectedly cross paths again? Perhaps that's why she brought the pin with her wherever she went, just in case she sees the young Tyrell by chance. Either way, it was somehow an assurance that Sansa was going to see Margaery again, even if it was just for something as simple as a pin... and Sansa liked the idea of it.

There was something about Margaery... something that kept Sansa up at night. Maybe it was her carefree spirit or the way she carried herself; something so light and collected and calm and inviting that made Sansa all the more drawn to her. She wasn't like the warm hearted ladies of Winterfell or the sophisticated ones in King's Landing. Margaery was like a mixture of both but at the same time something entirely different. She couldn't quite comprehend it, all the more explain it. Sansa didn't fully understand what it was exactly—what she was feeling towards Margaery. All she knew was that the thought of her made Sansa smile, that her heart starts beating a bit more unsteadily when she is reminded of their recent encounters... that somehow the idea that someone like Margaery exists made Sansa's life a bit more bearable.

"I don't know... I'm not sure when I'll be seeing her again." The disappointment was noticeable in Sansa's tone and Shae took note of it.

"I saw her entering Joffrey's chambers earlier. Perhaps you could return it when she leaves." Shae responds, just adding the finishing touches on Sansa's hair.

_Joffrey's chambers... Wedding plans..._

"I'm going out."

"Out where?"

"To pray."

And as she dusted off her dress and when Shae was done with her hair, Sansa stood and checked her reflection one last time, the golden rose still in the palm of her hand.

"How about the pin?" Shae asks just before Sansa stepped out of her chambers.

"I could give it back some other time." And off Lady Stark went.

There was a hint of disinterest in Sansa's tone as she left... but it was actually disappointment rather than disinterest. Of course, she wanted to see Margaery as soon as possible. But the future queen had other matters to attend to—like her wedding and spending time with her betrothed. And Sansa realized that Margaery probably didn't have the time for leisurely walks and nonsense conversations by the gardens with a girl that everyone else in the capital couldn't care less about now. Perhaps she was just being nice, Sansa thought. Or just fishing out information about Joffrey... Nothing more.

But what baffled Sansa was that she felt displeased with it... a little more than she should, a little more than necessary. Why did she feel _that_ upset, when she isn't supposed to? Sansa shrugs off the idea as she was met by two Lannister guards waiting outside her chambers, ready to escort her wherever she went. Queen Cersei, after all, wanted the young Stark in her reach. Under the circumstances, Sansa couldn't argue.

Just a few meters away from Sansa, Loras stood by Joffrey's door, waiting for his sister to step out. He saw the young northerner exit her chambers and being escorted away. He was instantly reminded of Margaery and how much she would've wanted to see her after a week of being apart.

Shae steps out of the same quarters, walking on the opposite direction just as Sansa was out of Loras' sight.

"Where is she heading?" Loras asked when Shae had reached his side. He knew that this bit of information was something valuable to his sister.

"Lady Sansa wants to pray... again—" Shae paused with a sigh.

"—she thinks her gods will help her even though it's as if they have already abandoned her."

Loras chuckles softly, quite amused with Shae's response.

"I suppose some of us just find solitude in prayer, don't you think?" He suggests, attempting to bring back some sort of formality into the conversation.

"Nonsense... She's smarter than that. She just doesn't know it yet."

Under these perilous times, Loras thought that if Sansa was still fortunate on anything, it was Shae. She had someone that looked out for her and Shae was indeed fitting to play the part.

"You watch out for her." He finally responds.

"I always do."

Meanwhile, Sansa had already reached the seaside of the gardens; a place where she felt a bit more free than anywhere else in King's Landing, a place where she preferred to be alone.

With two guards by her side, she knelt down in front of a stone where she'd rest her forearms on... where she always prayed. Sansa opens up the hand where the hair pin had rested this whole time and she already knew what she wanted to pray for other than her usual ones:

For her brother to win the war and give her Joffrey's head; and that she'd finally be brought back home with her mother and two younger brothers who had been in Winterfell this entire time... And of course, Arya. How could she forget Arya? Sansa prayed that her younger sister was safe. Even if she wasn't fond of her, she still loved her. But for the meantime, while all those prayers haven't been answered, she prays that Margaery would be around more often. Her mind always drifted off to a happier place whenever she was with Margaery.

Meanwhile, the Tyrell siblings finally reached their destination, just a few steps away from Sansa. And there Margaery saw the young Stark that had been barely out of her thoughts for the past couple of days. And indeed, the sight of Sansa made Margaery's heart swell.

"There she is... Praying, like what I said." Loras stared down at his younger sister as he spoke, arms of the siblings still hooked with each other. He smirks playfully when he notices the stare that Margaery had on the young northerner. She was mesmerized, Loras could tell. But he no longer felt the need to tease his sister for it.

"If that is all, I best be on my leave." Loras soon adds as he realizes that Margaery wasn't going to respond anytime soon.

"You're such a dear." The younger sibling finally answers just before unhooking their arms from each other.

"Good luck." He smiles down at his sister just before leaving. He knew that she wanted to be alone with Sansa. And he had hoped that maybe, just maybe, Sansa could reciprocate the affection that was growing deeper and deeper inside his sister's heart; to bring back some of the youth that Margaery had wasted over the years playing the game of thrones.

Margaery dusts off her dress for the last time, exhaling a heavy amount of air as to cool down some of the nerves.

She clears her throat, quite obviously, as to catch Sansa's attention.

Sansa did indeed hear the sound. She quickly opens her eyes and followed the direction from where the voice came from...

And there she was...

_Margaery..._


	3. Sansa & Margaery

Sansa did not know what to do. Her startled expression did give away the shock that she felt, though she wasn't entirely sure if Margaery had noticed it. It caught her off guard how quick the gods—her gods, had answered her prayer. Yes, she was thankful, but she didn't expect them to be answered _this_ soon. So far, her prayers were never answered—but perhaps this was a request that the gods were eager to answer... for once. Even in her startled state, Sansa manages to rise from her kneeling position, making sure to have the rose pin still in her hand.

"I didn't mean to disturb you." Margaery starts off, her voice as soft as ever as she maintained their distance; and it was only then that Sansa realized how much she missed the sweet sound of it.

"You haven't." She responds immediately, still in disbelief with how the older female was just a few feet away from her.

"We would like some privacy please, if you wouldn't mind waiting back inside the Keep." Margaery gestures at the two Lannister guards that continued to stand by Sansa's side.

Seeming as how the two men had no plans of leaving their presence, Margaery steps closer just before she adds...

"Or if you would be kind enough to give me your names, I'll ask the King to speak with you himself."

And with that the two guards finally left the redhead's side which caused a smile to form on Sansa's lips.

"What did you pray for?" Margaery says in a whisper when she's finally face to face with the taller girl.

"I can't tell you."

Of course Sansa couldn't tell. What was she supposed to say exactly? _I was praying for you?_

"Why not?" Margaery almost protests in disbelief as she hooks her arm with the taller girl's whilst starting their afternoon stroll.

"I'll tell you what I prayed for in the Sept this morning."

And then Margaery went on like the carefree spirit Sansa had always known her to be. She spoke of how she prayed for her family's health and happiness, for an end to the war, for a short winter—all traditional and boring prayers, she had to admit.

Sansa liked the way Margaery's eyes glistened in the air, how quick she was on her feet, and how calm and relaxed she was whenever she spoke. Sansa wished that she had the same amount of confidence as Margaery had.

"And you?" Margaery returns to her former question, glancing up at the younger female.

"I'm sorry, I j-just can't." Sansa looks down on her feet, embarrassed.

"Hm." The corner of Margaery's lips curved up to form a smirk as she just realized that getting Sansa Stark to open up was more of a challenge than she had previously thought.

"Why did you come here?" The young Stark couldn't help but ask. After all, last she heard from Shae was that Margaery was in Joffrey's chambers. Why go to the gardens all of a sudden?

"I wanted to see you." Margaery admitted, with no hint of bashfulness lingering. "It's been what? A week? Five days ago?" Margaery lied. She knew it's been a week. She just didn't want to give herself away that quickly.

"A week." Sansa pointed out, looking down at the older female next to her with a warm smile.

"Oh."

Sansa spoke as she suddenly remembered the piece of metal that she was fumbling over absentmindedly. She opens up her palm, exposing the pin to Margaery. And soon after, the older female appeared confused as to what Sansa wanted to convey.

"This is yours, I believe—It slipped off your hair before you left the last time we met." Sansa explained, lifting off the confusion on Margaery's expression.

"You held it the entire time?" The young Tyrell asked, quite touched with how concerned Sansa was over the hair piece. She could easily notice how Sansa's cheeks developed into a light shade of red and Margaery smiles softly at the sight.

Maybe she was in Sansa's mind more often than Margaery had originally thought.

"I just thought that—if I ever saw you around, I could give it back." The redhead tries to further explain—defend rather, as if she felt she was caught red-handed.

"That's awfully sweet of you." Margaery decides to answer rather than flustering the younger one even more, exposing that smile that had been adored by thousands... especially by Sansa Stark.

"You keep it. I believe it suits you better anyway."

Sansa pauses for a moment, facing her companion. How was it possible for anyone to be as warm and as inviting as Margaery Tyrell?

The older female gestures at the pin that continued to rest gently on Sansa's palm. "May I?" The taller girl could only nod in response.

Just as Sansa had given permission, the smile on Margaery's lips curved more visibly as she takes hold of the golden rose. Her hands reach for the red locks on the side of Sansa's head, pinning some strands together whilst exposing more of the young Stark's features. And Margaery couldn't help but think to herself how beautiful Sansa was—pale skin and freckles and all, with a smile that captivated her ever since their first meeting.

"A Tyrell rose looks good on you." Margaery comments just before her fingers detached themselves from Sansa's strands.

Sansa's head was spinning. How could words put together so lightly start pulling on her heartstrings? Margaery had a way with words—or perhaps it was just Sansa. But she couldn't understand how Margaery could make her feel this flustered.

Margaery couldn't quite understand the expression on Sansa's face. Maybe she was agitated? The uneasiness was evident on Sansa's countenance.

"You should see Highgarden." Margaery attempts to shift the topic of their conversation.

"You'd love it there, I know you would."

"I-I'm not sure if the queen would let me leave King's Landing.

It was true. Sansa wasn't that stupid. She knew Cersei wouldn't let her out of her reach. So even though she liked the idea of visiting Highgarden with Margaery, the redhead didn't want to place her hopes on it.

"Yes... The queen may not let you leave... But I bet Joffrey would."

The future queen was reminded of her recent conversation with His Grace, and how he had already advised Margaery to keep the young Stark close. Surely, a trip back home was also a part of that advise.

"Joffrey?!" Sansa exclaims with disbelief just before releasing a few giggles. She thought Margaery was probably joking.

"How are you so certain?" She further asks with curiosity evident on her features.

"Have a little faith in me." Margaery responds in a hushed tone with a smile that never failed to mesmerize the young Stark.

There was a moment of silence between them and Margaery slowly reaches for Sansa's hands. The warmth and softness of Margaery's palms caused Sansa's heart to melt for a moment.

"So... Let's plan on it?"

"Plan on what?" The younger girl asked, appearing to be baffled with her question. Sansa was, after all, a bit distracted with the hand holding.

"Our trip to Highgarden." Margaery points out before giving the younger one's hands a light squeeze, giggling at her confusion.

Sansa looks down at her feet, a bit embarrassed with her absentmindedness.

"Would you like that?" Margaery stoops down slightly to meet Sansa's eyes that were once again glued to the stone floors.

Sansa saw that Margaery said this with absolute sincerity. And for the first time, in a long time, someone made her feel that she wasn't insignificant at all.

"That would make me very happy."


	4. By the Gardens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter. I'm sorry it's been a while. This took longer than I originally hoped.

Both girls had eased into shallow conversation about the weather and lemon cakes and little trips to the south, but this later on leads to talks about home and family and comfort. Margaery starts talking more about Highgarden. How her cousin Allana always teased her by calling her pigface when they were both younger. Sansa thought how ridiculous it was since no close comparison ever even existed in her eyes. Margaery also thought of how masquerades and festive clothing always reminded her of the night of the harvest moon back home. She admits that she was starting to be burdened by feelings of homesickness, but she often shrugged it as much as possible. Being the politically savvy lady that she was, Margaery wouldn't usually let such information pass through her lips. But with Sansa, it's as if she felt it was safe.

The young northerner also spoke of her tales back in Winterfell; how she always sewed clothes for herself and how the cold air always got to her bones—perhaps that's also why she was eager to go to the capital when she was younger. She spoke of her direwolf, Lady, which Margaery regretted she never had the pleasure to meet. Her sister, Arya and her younger brothers, Bran and Rickon. Margaery saw a whole new side to Sansa; the side that people never talked about. They only called her the traitor's daughter and that she had traitor's blood in her too. But there was more to Sansa Stark than that lie. And Margaery was eager to learn everything there is to know about Sansa. It had only been hours and yet it's as if the two ladies have known each other forever.

Sansa and Margaery eventually found some common ground; how they thought the noise of King's Landing seemed unbearable during supper and how uneasy the atmosphere felt whenever Cersei was around. Perhaps that's why they enjoyed the presence of roses, bushes and trees of all sorts that accompanied them in their afternoon stroll. For Margaery, of course, there was a nostalgic ambiance to it—being surrounded by nature as it was a familiar sight to her. For Sansa, however, it was something entirely new—yet comforting. She had always been used to the cold, growing up in the north. Grey walls and stone floors, hues of blue and frostbites, they never left her during her stay in Winterfell. But she was wondering whether it was nature itself or Margaery's presence that made her feel at ease... perhaps the latter, she was too timid to admit, even to herself.

Now here they were, with Margaery's arm hooked around Sansa's, clinging onto the taller girl she was growing fond of even more; words of what they disliked about the capital had dominated so much of the conversation by this time. "Well, isn't there anything that you like here in King's Landing?" Margaery manages to string the words together as she looked up at Sansa.

_Probably you..._

Sansa wanted to confess. But perhaps it wasn't the right time to speak of such. Maybe not just yet.

"I do like the sunsets here..."

It was true, but she didn't like it as much as she realized she liked Margaery.

The two ladies stood in front of the vast ocean that greeted them, now a bit far away from the gardens that they spent most of their afternoon with.

"How could the sky paint such colors that only the heart could comprehend?"

Margaery listened to Sansa intently—indulging herself word per word. And at that moment, Margaery realized that Sansa was no different from the sunset. How could someone be as radiant as Sansa Stark? Yet, Margaery's head spun around confused in trying to understand her, and how she could be as wonderful as she was. But it's as if her heart had already known; her heart already knew what her mind was just about to realize.

She stared at the younger one—deeply and lovingly, as if she had never witnessed anything as pleasant as the girl right before her eyes.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" A warm smile emerges from the corners of Sansa's lips as she asked, eyes still fixed on the view in front of her. She was still oblivious of the older girl's stare.

"Very beautiful..."

Margaery did not have to look at the sunset, because she wasn't commenting about that particular view at all. She didn't want to miss a moment of looking into the younger girl's features; the way her eyes sparkled and how her porcelain skin radiated and the adorable freckles that went with it. Margaery was sure of Sansa; with her heart collapsing a little bit deeper and with her mind going a little bit crazier.

Under the autumn evening glow that matched with Sansa's skin and the rose pin suiting the redness of her hair...

... Margaery fell in love.

_Sansa._

She wanted to keep that name in her heart for as long as she possibly could.

Sansa finally takes notice of Margaery's deep stare and she looks back into her eyes. Her heart starts beating a bit more rapidly and the atmosphere between them was starting to get tense.

There were galaxies trapped inside those heavy hazel eyes and Sansa wanted to unravel the mystery underneath them. The realization fell upon her, finally figuring it out what she had been feeling this entire time; that those endless nights of tossing and turning and dreaming and longing only meant one thing and one thing only: that there was this certain affection towards Margaery that she couldn't deny any longer...

She wanted her.

She wanted Margaery.

As much as Margaery wanted to make a move, as it already seemed like the perfect moment; with the wonderful scenery and the pair of eyes that told her that the feeling was mutual... She decided not to. Not just yet. There was still much she needed to learn about Sansa Stark.

"It's getting quite late, don't you think?" Margaery finally cuts off the silence between them and Sansa felt some of her tense feelings wear off.

"Yeah... I suppose it is."

"Shall I escort you back to the Keep?"

Sansa was a bit wide eyed with the other female's suggestion. She couldn't possibly refuse, but she didn't want to be a burden to Margaery either.

"There's no need..."

"Let me, please?" Margaery responds, almost sounding as if she was begging. The tone in her voice made Sansa think for a second how Margaery sounded adorable with it.

"I had to shoo your guards away to have you all to myself for the whole afternoon. Let me take you back, at least?"

Margaery couldn't explain herself why she was vocalising bits of her affection towards Sansa Stark already. Perhaps it's because she had a clue that this thing wasn't one sided at all—and that somehow, she was free to act such, in a suitable amount.

Sansa could only nod in response and with her permission, Margaery's smile grew wider. Both girls looked forward to evening strolls and lemon cakes by the sea. The day may be reaching its end, but this was only the beginning.

"Did you enjoy our time together, Lady Sansa?" Margaery asks, finally unhooking her arm around Sansa's as they've reached their destination—in front of Sansa's chambers.

"I did." Sansa responds quite enthusiastically, attempting to conceal some of the wideness of her smile that demanded to stretch pass her ears.

"I did too." Margaery answers with a smile accompanying her words. "Perhaps tomorrow we could get some lemon cakes as though we weren't able to do so earlier."

"T-Tomorrow?" Sansa couldn't help but appear a bit wide eyed, which was truly her initial reaction but with no intention of offending the older female.

"Unless you had prior plans? I understand, truly—"

"N-No... Tomorrow would be lovely... I only meant that—" Sansa pauses for a moment, collecting the words that she wanted to say. "You'd want to see me tomorrow?"

"And the day after that." Margaery responds almost immediately, her smile appearing more visibly on her features as she wanted her interest in Sansa to be known.

Sansa couldn't help but blush at the older girl's words, unable to say some of her own which only made Margaery giggle softly at the sight of the startled young Stark.

"I'll see you tomorrow then..." Margaery finally adds up, as she realizes Sansa was a bit more flustered than usual to respond.

"Tomorrow."

"Good night."

"Good night."

And off Sansa went inside her chambers and Margaery stood on the same spot as she watched the younger girl vanish from her sight.

The grins of the two girls appeared uncontrollable at this time, now that they weren't in each other's company, both blushing furiously at opposite sides of the same door as they recalled the recent happenings of that day. Both hearts were swelling and flustered and happy. And for once, it seemed as if their worlds were both at peace in the midst of the war, the wedding arrangements and the chaos.

One thing was for certain, and both girls knew, that by the gardens...

.. they fell in love.


End file.
